love poetry

I.

The stars are with the voyager
Wherever he may sail;
The moon is constant to her time;
The sun will never fail;
But follow, follow round the world,
The green earth and the sea;
So love is with the lover's heart,
Wherever he may be.

II.

Wherever he may be, the stars
Must daily lose their light;
The moon will veil her in the shade;
The sun will set at night.
The sun may set, but constant love
Will shine when he's away;
So that dull night is never night,

Song is so old,
— Love is so new —
Let me be still
— And kneel to you.

Let me be still
— And breathe no word,
Save what my warm blood
— Sings unheard.

Let my warm blood
— Sing low of you —
Song is so fair,
— Love is so new!

So you're going a-
way Because your heart has gone astray,
And you promised me That you would
always faithful be. Go
to him you love, And be as true as stars a-
bove; But your heart will yearn,
And then some day you will return.
When the dew-drops
fall, 'Tis then your heart, I know, will call.
So be ware, my dove, Don't trust your
life to some false love. But
if you must go, Remember, dear, I love you
so, Sure as stars do shine,
You'll think of when I called you mine.

Sleep, wayward thoughts, and rest you with my love;
Let not my love be with my love displeased;
Touch not, proud hands, lest you her anger move,
But pine you with my longings long diseased.
Thus, while she sleeps, I sorrow for her sake;
So sleeps my love — and yet my love doth wake.

But O the fury of my restless fear,
The hidden anguish of my chaste desires;
The glories and the beauties that appear
Between her brows, near Cupid's closed fires!
Sleep, dainty love, while I sigh for thy sake;

So Paradise was brightened, so 'twas blest,
When Innocence and Beauty it possest.
Such was it's more retired Path and Seat,
For Eve and musing Angels a Retreat .
Such Eden's Streams, and Banks, and tow'ring Groves;
Such Eve her self, and such her Muse and Loves .
Only there wants an Adam on the Green ,
Or else all Paradise might here be seen.

So Men, who once have cast the Truth away,
Forsook by God , do strange wild lusts obey;
So the vain Gentiles , when they left t' adore
One Deity , could not stop at thousands more.
Their zeal was senseless strait, and boundless grown;
They worshipt many a Beast , and many a Stone .
Ah fair Apostate! couldst thou think to flee
From Truth and Goodness , yet keep Unity ?
I reign'd alone; and my blest Self could call
The Universal Monarch of her All .
Mine, mine her fair East-Indies were above,

1

Sing I for a brave and a gallant barque, and a stiff and a rattling breeze,
A bully crew, and a Captain, true, to carry me o'er the seas;
To carry me o'er the seas, my boys, to my true love so gay-ay-ay,
Who went on a trip in a Government ship ten thousand miles away!

Refrain:
Blow, ye winds, hi oh! a-roaming I will go,
I'll stay no more on England's shore, so let the music play;
I'll start by the morning train to cross the raging main,
For I'm on the road to my own true love, ten thousand miles away!

2

LXXVIII

Since Love will needs that I shall love,
Of very force I must agree
And since no chance may it remove
In wealth and in adversity,
I shall alway myself apply
To serve and suffer patiently.

Though for goodwill I find but hate
And cruelty my life to waste
And though that still a wretched state
Should pine my days unto the last,
Yet I profess it willingly
To serve and suffer patiently.

For since my heart is bound to serve
And I not ruler of mine own,

Since, Coridon, you have a hart can pay
So many sacrifices in a day,
And that you can one for her wit adore,
And then another for her beauty more,
I have no inclination to confine
Your general offering to a single shrine.
No, Coridon, I'le quit you of your vow,
You here or there may court, when, where, or how,
Your artful love your fancy shall perswade,
And when you've done, and many conquests made,
Back on your honor looke, and there you'le see,
A ruine greater than your victory.
It easy is our weak sex to betray,

Song

D APHNÈ

Shephard loveth thow me vell?

A MINTAS

So vel that I cannot tell.

D APHNÈ

Like to vhat, good shephard, say?

A MINTAS

Like to thee, faire cruell May.

D APHNÈ

Ah! how strange thy vords I find!
But yet satisfie my mind;